


The Case of the Missing Martin

by fandomshaveruinedme



Series: Adjusting With You [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Adding more tags with each chapter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blind Character, Blind Jon, Elias is a Douchbag, F/F, Gen, M/M, Permanent Injury, The Lonely - Freeform, Tim is the Brother Jon Never Wanted, Today is One of the Days Elias and Peter aren't Divorced, jonmartin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomshaveruinedme/pseuds/fandomshaveruinedme
Summary: Martin is gone. He's been taken away in the middle of the night, and Jon is left to pick up the pieces. Pieces that he can't even see.Part of my Blind Jon series.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Adjusting With You [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832053
Comments: 19
Kudos: 103





	1. The Before

**Author's Note:**

> Okie dokie guys! 
> 
> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic because I could not fit everything into a oneshot. Takes place directly after the last one.

Jon was a mess, Georgie noted with a frown. His clothes were rumpled, and were honestly pretty funny looking. He wore brown slacks, a blue button down with a little flower sewn into the collar, and one of Martin's uglier patterned sweaters, which Jon was swimming in. His hair was pulled back, but strands stuck out at various different angles, making Jon look like a mad scientist. He wore no shoes, and his socks were mismatched. Jon usually looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but now he looked like a corpse. Stubble coated Jon’s cheeks, and it was obvious that Jon hadn’t eaten anything since Martin had gone missing. The face that he was even upright and functioning simply astounded Georgie. 

The most unsettling part of Jon’s appearance was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. Georgie hadn’t seen Jon’s eyes after the accident, and it was shocking. Around his eyes there were pink scars, whether from the incident itself or from surgery Georgie wasn’t sure. His eyelids were misshapen, and drooped slightly. He had fake eyes, and they were surprisingly realistic, so at first Georgie couldn’t even tell they were fake, but after a moment Georgie realized why they unsettled her so much. They didn’t move. Normal eyes shift and pupils expand or decrease, but Jon’s just stared blankly ahead. There was no warmth, no emotion, no anything, just blank nothingness. Jon used to have such beautiful eyes, and Georgie felt a pang of sadness as she realized, again, what freedom cost. 

Georgie glanced around the room, surprised that everybody had shown up. Jon was in the center pacing back and forth while fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. Tim was lounging on one end of the sofa looking relaxed, but Georgie could worry lines etched into his tan face. Daisy and Basira were whispering in a corner while shooting glances at Jon. Melanie stood next to Georgie, holding her hand and squeezing every now and then. It would have been a normal gathering, except for the fact that Martin was missing. 

“Alright, Jon,” Basira said, voice gruff, “ I need you to tell me what exactly happened the night Martin went missing.” 

*****************

Two Days Ago

Jon didn’t know how long he kneeled on the floor, hunched over with heaving sobs. Martin was gone, and Jon had no idea what to do. 

At some point, his phone started ringing. Frantically, Jon grabbed it and answered, hoping that, somehow, Martin managed to find a phone. 

“Martin? Is that you?” His voice cracking at the end. 

“Hello, Jon.” The voice was cool and calculating, and it was one that Jon would recognize anywhere. 

“Elias,” Jon all but spat out. “Where’s Martin? What have you done to him?” 

“Oh Jon,” Elias chuckled, “ I haven’t touched poor Martin. I just didn’t do anything to help him either.” 

“Why? We’re no use to you anymore. Why would Martin be taken?” 

“Well, you’ve made quite a mess of things. I do believe that Martin was working for Peter Lukas, who, I know for a fact, was not pleased to work so hard grooming Martin only to have him disown the Lonely for you.” 

“Martin doesn’t belong to the Lonely, he was only trying to protect me.” 

“But of course. I, myself, am not pleased with that little stunt you pulled in The Archives. I decided that I could either pull your brain apart bit by bit with stories about what happened to your little friend and A Guest for Mr Spider, or how your nan secretly resented you, such a troublesome little boy. She already raised her children, why did she have to raise you? I could rip apart your mind until you were nothing more than a sniveling mess, or I could let the thing you love most be ripped away from right under your nose, and watch you destroy yourself. The answer was quite obvious, really.” 

“You won't win, Elias, I’ll find Martin, and I’ll bring him home. You’re going to lose.” 

“Really, Jon, how are you going to do that? It would have been hard enough for you to find Martin when you belonged to The Eye, now you’re just a useless piece of human flesh. I suppose if you’re truly going to try, then this is goodbye. You won’t be bothering me again. Who knows, maybe I’ll pop into The Lonely and say hello. You won't recognize me, of course, but it would still bring me great joy.” Elias sighed, “It didn’t have to be this way, Jon, you were a shit archivist, but I had high hopes for you. Goodbye, Jon.” The line went dead.

Jon cradled the phone in his hand for a moment, thinking over Elias’ words. At least Jon knows where Martins is not, sort of. Peter Lukas had taken him, which meant Martin was trapped in The Lonely. 

Shuddering, Jon pulled himself off the floor and made his way into the bedroom. He reached into their shared closet and gripped one of Martin sweaters. He held it to his nose for a moment before slipping it on and making his way to the bed. 

“Hey Siri.”

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Call Tim.” The phone rang for a few moments before a groggy voice answered.

“Bloody hell, Jon, I know you’re blind but it's 4:30 in the morning for Christ's Sake.” 

“Tim,” Jon managed to choke out.

“Jon? What happened?”

“Martins, he’s- Martin’s been taken. Please, Tim, I know we haven’t gotten along in the past but-”

“I’ll be at your flat in 30 minutes.” 

“There’s a key hidden under the plastic cat outside the door, use that to get in.” 

When the call finished, Jon curled up under the blanket and wrapped his arms around himself, letting the smell of Martin’s sweater wash over him. If he tried hard enough, Jon could pretend Martin was there, holding him close. It was there in their bed, huddled in Martin’s sweater, alone, that Jon let himself succumb to his loss.

**************

When Tim opened the door to the flat, Jon was nowhere to be found. He stood in the entrance hall for a moment, before hearing a soft sniffing noise coming from down the hall. 

“Jon?” Tim called out tentatively as he followed the sound. Upon entering, what Tim decided was the bedroom, he noticed a small lump under the blanket. Moving closer, he could see black and grey hair peeking out from under the covers. 

“Oh, Jon,” Tim muttered softly, frowning sadly down at the lump. “Alrighty then, time to get up.” He yanked the blanket off Jon's prone form. Tim then lowered himself onto the bed, so he was sitting next to Jon. He awkwardly gave the smaller man a pat on the shoulder.

“Tim?” Jon asked, lifting his head up.

“Yeah mate, it’s me.” Tim said while continuing to pat him. 

Sniffing a little, Jon sat up, attempting to compose himself. “Sorry you have to see me like this. I’ve come to rely on Martin quite heavily, and you two were friends back at The Archives, so I thought I’d call you first and-” Jon was rambling at this point, and Tim didn’t know whether to interrupt or let him keep going. Eventually, he decided enough was enough and cut Jon off. 

“I need to know what you mean by Martin’s been taken.” 

“Oh. Right, well,” he took a deep breath, “ I woke up and Martin was gone. It was cold and damp which had all the signs of The Lonely. Then, I got a phone call from Elias basically gloating.” 

“Jesus, Jon. I thought Elias was in jail.” 

“Elias is an all seeing Eye being, I’m pretty sure he can do whatever he wants.”

“Fair point.” 

Jon sighed before looking in Tim's general direction. “I’ve been leaning on Martin a lot, what with this whole blindness thing, and I-” he seemed to hesitate, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Martin has been my support, and without him I’m useless.” Quieter, as though he were speaking to himself, Jon whispered, “he promised he wouldn’t leave me.” 

“Jon? I’m going to call the others, and we’re going to get Martin back.” Tim said, already pulling out his phone and dialing.


	2. The Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing 
> 
> He is nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a generous amount of line spacing to give it that mood that I was going for

Cold 

Wet and cold 

A soft mist caressing a cheek 

Who am I? 

Static- and something else 

Ah, yes. Waves 

Numb 

Static and waves and numbness 

And? Something else- something… new? 

A feeling, a name 

Not his, no. But a name none the less

Jon. 

Warmth pushing away the cold 

Jon. 

How could he forget Jon

A voice calls out 

“Tut tut, that simply won’t do.”

The stati grows louder 

Consuming everything 

Waves crash and water laps at his feet

Static increases 

Swallowing him 

And then 

Nothing

**********

An image 

Flashing across his brain 

Dark, scarred skin 

Long, soft, wavy hair peppered with grey 

A smile- 

Small and rare. For his eyes only 

Eyes 

Brown? No, green. 

No

Red

A name? 

Martin? 

MAAAtin. 

No

That’s not correct 

Static rushes in

Everything drowns 

Leaving him feeling 

Nothing

*************

A hand 

Lumpy, pink, soft, warm 

Gentle touches 

A bed

Uncomfortable 

Scratchy sheets 

That lumpy, pink, beautiful hand encased in his own

Cold, unmoving 

The soft sounds of machines and regulated breathing 

A new feeling 

Ripping through his chest 

Tearing him open 

Leaving him hollowed out and cold 

Take it away

This time 

The static is welcome 

************

He is nothing and nothing is good 

There is no pain when you’re nothing 

No Fear 

He’s sitting now on ground that is not- ground

It’s … sand 

He runs his fingers through it, creating soft mounts and ruts 

He feels nothing 

He is nothing 

He is 

Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is in the works! Don't fear! As always I appreciate comments and kudos even if I don't respond to them I still read each one.


	3. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for Martin is still on, and the team is getting closer and closer to finding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Que epic search music*

It was a week to the day since Martin had disappeared, and Jon had nothing. Elias has vanished, to who knows where, and so had Peter Lukas. Jon was running on fumes at this point, and it was becoming painfully obvious that he couldn’t keep going for much longer. 

“ Jon, you look like death, go have a quick lie down while we read a few things over, since none of these articles are in Braille.” 

“I can’t, Tim, Martin is out there and I- I can’t.” His voice coming out choked. Tim let out a sigh. 

“Alright, just please have a seat before you keel over.” 

Frowning, Jon sat down, his weary limbs sighing in relief. Before long, a steaming cup of tea was placed in his hands. Taking a sip, Jon grimaced. It wasn’t as good as Martin’s, who knew just how Jon liked it, and again Jon felt another pang of sadness at his loss. 

Jon leaned back and listened to the others. They had been meeting regularly, since Martin had been taken, to try and find an entrance into The Lonely, have, so far, been coming up empty handed. 

He could hear Daisy and Basira in the corner whispering and comparing notes, and Jon strained his ears to listen. 

It was at that moment, the sound of a door opening echoed throughout the room. 

“Wh-“ Jon started to ask, but was cut off by the sound of a gun cocking. 

“Get out of here,” Basira said to the unknown figure. 

“Well, now that’s just rude. I only came here to help the poor Archivist.” The voice was distorted and twisted, as though it were taking up too much space. 

“Helen.” Jon stood up, bracing one hand on his cane. 

“Hello, Archivist, well no, not anymore. Let’s try this again, Hello Jon. I came here to help fund sweet, innocent Martin, but I just feel so unwelcome with this gun in my face perhaps I’ll just leave.” 

Jon lurched forwards, arm outstretched, “no, wait! Please, how can I find Martin?” 

“Jon,” he heard Basira warn, but he waved her off. 

“I just might be willing to create a doorway into The Lonely.”

“Why? Why help me?” 

Helen laughed, “ still so curious hmmm. Well, you and Martin make such an adorable couple, and I love inconveniencing Elias and Peter any chance I get.” 

“Okay, but why now? Martin has been missing for a week.” 

“You’re about to get attacked and probably murdered, so I figured it was a good time to pull you out” 

Jon stood taken aback, “ wait, murdered?” 

Before Helen could respond, a loud pounding came from the front door. He heard what he assumed was Daisy pull her gun out and cock it next to Basira. 

“Jon are you coming or not?” 

He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, weighing his options. This could be his only chance to save Martin, but it meant having to leave his friends to fight and quite possibly die. 

The choice was made for him when he heard Basira shout, “ go!” And felt rough hands grab him. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, mate.” Tim said before shoving him towards the door. 

Jon heard the front door burst open and a voice say “where is he?” His brain supplied him with a name, Trevor Herbert. There was a sound of liquid sloshing before Melanie's scream pierced the air “my eyes!” Jon turned to ask what was happening, but long, claw-like hands grabbed him and pulled him into silence. 

***************

“Alrighty, Jon, I believe this is your stop.” 

“How will I get out?” 

“ Now that, ex Archivist, is the big question, isn’t it.” Helen chuckled and then proceeded to close the door in Jon’s face. 

“Alright then,” he muttered as he set off at random, hoping he would stumble upon Martin at some point. 

Jon didn’t know how long he walked aimlessly, calling out for Martin. Wind whipped his hair around, and Jon had to yell to be heard over the sound of crashing waves. More than once he found himself standing in the shallow waters of the ocean.

He was struggling to remember himself as time wore on. Somehow, whether some residual part of The Eye, or just the fact that he kept running over the names of his loved ones, Jon never lost himself completely. He had a goal, his friends needed him, Martin needed him. Jon kept walking. 

He was parched, and his feet hurt, but Jon kept moving. If he stopped, if he let himself rest, Jon was certain that he would succumb to The Lonely and be lost forever. 

His voice was in tatters and sand coated his mouth. There was nothing else Jon could do but keep walking and keep yelling. The wind had died down, and left the air thick with moisture. Fog, Jon realized as he remembered signs of The Lonely’s presence. He could feel his normally wavy yet manageable hair developing curled due to the humidity and he grimaced. 

Finally, after much yelling, Jon heard a soft voice call out, 

“Hello?”

“Martin,” he breathed, before rushing to the voice. 

“Is there somebody else here? I thought I was alone.” 

“Yes, Martin, it’s me. I’m coming for you.” 

Jon heard a soft, “oh?” And then proceeded to trip over an object in the sand. The object, it turns out, was the body of Martin Blackwood, who was sitting in the sand. 

Fumbling around, Jon found Martin’s shoulders and latched himself onto them. 

“Oh god, Martin, I’m so sorry.” 

“Who are you?” Martin asked, his voice unusually soft and hollow. “Who’s Martin? Is that me?” 

“I - yes, that’s you. It’s me, Jon, I’ve found you.” 

Martin was silent for a moment as he weighed Jon’s words. 

“Oh, Jon. I remember you. You hurt me, and you broke my heart. I like it here, on this beach. I don’t feel the worry or pain or sadness that I felt with you. I don’t feel anything. It’s nice, really.” 

Jon froze, his hands still loosely clutched in Martin's sweater. He choked a little as he realized what had occurred. He was too late, Martin was gone. 

“No. No Martin, you- you love me, and I love you. So many people love you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Martin, that I wasn’t there when you needed me, but I’m here now, and I’m not leaving.” 

“The Martin you knew was weak, Jon. He was so emotional, and cared too much about everything. Now, I have none of that. Now, I simply am.” 

“You are Martin Blackwood. You like poetry and tea. You care for others a-and always bring out the best in everyone. You drool in your sleep and crinkle your nose when you laugh. You are Martin Blackwood and you’re my boyfriend, and the man I want to be with … forever. You are Martin Blackwood and you are not alone.” 

Martin sat for a moment, stiff under Jon’s touch. Hesitantly, he reached out, “ Jon?” 

“I’m here, Martin.” Slowly, warm arms wrapped themselves around Jon and pulled him in tightly. Jon cupped Martin's face in his hand, trailing his thumb along Martin's jaw, before leaning in and pressing their lips together. 

It was soft and slow, Martin pulling Jon in closer as though at any moment he could fade away. Jon tilted his neck and angled his head to deepen the kiss and run his fingers through Martin's hair. Martin’s breath wasn’t hot against his own, their mouths moving in sync with one another. 

Jon frowned as Martin pulled away, and he cocked his head to the side questioningly. 

“Uh, Jon, earlier you said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. Um, was that true?” 

Heat flooded Jon’s cheeks, but it was too late to pull back now. 

“Well, I - uh- wouldn’t be opposed to that if- if it was something you would want.” 

“Jonathan Sims, did you just propose to me in the literal realm of loneliness?” 

“ Yes? No wait, no. Just give me a moment.” Hands shaking, Jon reached into his pocket and felt around until his fingers touched two cool objects which had been residing in various different pant pockets for months. Carefully, Jon moved himself so that he was kneeling and then turned back to Martin. 

“So, uh, I’ve had these for a while but just couldn’t think of a proper way to do this. I guess that since we might be trapped in here forever now's a good a time as any.” 

He took a deep breath, and heard a sharp intake from Martin. 

“My feelings for you over the years have been mixed, but honestly that’s mostly because I didn’t know how to handle a crush so I figured pushing you away was the best idea. I know we haven’t been dating for that long, but considering everything we’ve been through, I think it’s okay to rush a bit. So, Martin Blackwood, would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?” 

“Of course, Jon, of course I’ll be your husband.” Martin said before pulling Jon into another kiss. 

Slowly, they broke apart so Jon could slid the simple silver band over Martin’s finger, and then let Martin do the same. 

Suddenly, a voice from behind them spoke up. 

“Well now, this just wont do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left in this segment of the series!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like chapter onnneeeeee!!!
> 
> I write and plan everything out in a notebook and then type it all up and edit it so that's why it takes a little bit for me to post each chapter.


End file.
